


pick up the bones (leave the soul alone)

by nimic



Category: AR∀GO ロンドン市警特殊犯罪捜査官 | Arago, Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 20:01:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16625528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimic/pseuds/nimic
Summary: This boy needed more warmth in his life, and by the gods she was going to give it to him. And if her kids ended up with a loyal older brother who would do anything to protect them? Then it was an unexpected and wholly unnecessary bonus.Rating & tags will be updated as story progresses (when it finally progresses)





	pick up the bones (leave the soul alone)

The man in front of her son was suspicious. Not suspicious enough to shoot him on sight, but suspicious enough that she was _ready_ to shoot him on her way over.

“Does Japan have ogres and stuff too then?” Ichigo asked.

“No way, monsters are different all over the world. Even the nice fairies are different. Every country’s got their own thing going on,” the man answered.

As she approached the bench they were sitting on, she realized that the man was much younger than she’d thought. His white hair might have made him seem older from behind, but, looking at his face, there was no way he could be a day over 25. He was laughing as Ichigo pestered him with more questions.

“Well, let’s see…” the man- _boy,_ started. “We have these small ones called ‘brownies’, and they sometimes clean your house if you leave milk out for them.”

“Whoa, really? I think mom would love that.”

The boy laughed, and the sound of it was like windchimes on a breezy summer day. “But if you don’t give them anything they’ll pull a prank on you.”

“Oh, that’s less nice.” Ichigo pouted.

Masaki checked her watch quickly. Nearly 6PM. She stepped in front of the bench to interrupt them. “What’s less nice? Maybe running away to talk to strangers and leaving mom to worry in front of the dojo?” she said with her hands on her hips and a smile on her face.

The boy with white hair blanched and quickly looked back over to Ichigo.

“I- I’m so sorry miss-! I didn’t mean to- I mean- I didn’t have any bad intentions-”

Ichigo cut him off, stepping between his mother and the boy.

“He was being nice and telling me about England while I waited for you, mommy. He’s not a bad person,” he said, voice steady but hands trembling.

Ichigo. _Her_ little mama’s boy. Was standing up to her? For some stranger? She eyed the white haired boy, then her son. There was no faking the apologetic look in his eye, nor the fact that his body seemed to angle away searching for an escape. He wasn’t shrinking in shame though, and that was all the more telling.

“I’m uh, I’m Arago, Arago Hunt,” he said, pulling out a tattered business card. “I’m visiting my friend Rio in Japan for a bit, that’s her number on the bottom.” He handed the card over and paused. “I swear I’m not a suspicious person.”

She took the card. _Albion, protecting since 1840, Japan branch_ . Then she looked further down. _Rio Butler, Branch Chief._ Interesting. She put the card into her pocket and reached out to shake the boy’s hand.

“Kurosaki Masaki,” she said, and Arago almost sagged with relief as he reached out with a gloved hand. “Thank you for keeping my son company. Maybe he’ll see you again another day?”

Arago blushed and looked to her son, then back to her. “I- uh. If- If you don’t mind?” He seemed unsure if he should be asking the question at all, his expression lit with a spark of hope. There was no way she wouldn’t check up on the ‘Albion’ thing, just to be sure about this boy, but he seemed kind, if maybe a bit lonely.

“Just stay in sight of the dojo,” she pointed to the doors, where some sensei and senpai were standing outside with the children that were waiting for their parents. “Ichigo seems to have gotten quite attached to you in a short time, and I trust his judgement,” she said, ruffling her son’s hair.

“I told you! Arago-nii’s a good guy!” he exclaimed.

Masaki turned to look at Arago just in time to see a look of shock melt off the boy’s face, only to be replaced by a smile that did indeed scream ‘loving older brother’. She smiled at him, then put her hands on Ichigo’s shoulders to guide him away.

“It’s almost 6, we have to get home soon, or your sisters will miss you.”

“Bye Arago-nii! See you next week!”

She waved at Arago with her son, then turned and began the short walk home.

“So, what did you two talk about?”

* * *

It took Masaki a total of two weeks to decide that, not only was Arago _not_ a threat, but he was someone she wanted to protect. The boy was clearly craving company, from the way his eyes lit up whenever Ichigo would run over to him after karate, to the way he seemed to come alive telling stories and entertaining. He had a look sometimes, staring far into the distance, the screamed of loneliness. His friend Rio was certainly here, and he was indeed visiting her while attending to some secret business (and what could that be if not exactly what she was thinking), but that didn’t change the fact that he spent far too much time alone for someone who seemed to thrive around others.

The third week, she showed up to the park early enough to chat a bit with him.

“You know, we have our own magic beings here in Japan,” she started, and he seemed to light up with childish wonder.

“Is it like- yokai and stuff? Fox spirits and ghouls and gods?” he asked.

“Well, I don’t know about those, but I do know of some others, if you’d like to hear.”

The boy was practically jumping to sit in front of her, ready to listen to the stories the way children in kindergarten would. So she told him of demons with bone masks for faces and reapers with their purifying swords and how some humans were born special while others grew into unique powers. He drank the words like they were heaven-sent and, to Masaki’s surprise, did not interrupt a single time, but nodded vigorously to show he was keeping up. By the time she was wrapping up, the sound of children exiting the dojo began to reach their ears.

“Would you like to walk home with us today, Arago-kun?”

“Oh, I couldn’t impose-” he began, expression falling.

“Arago-nii!”

Arago turned to Ichigo and his face lit up again. “There’s my little citrus delight!”

Masaki held back a laugh as Ichigo jumped into Arago’s arms. _Citrus delight?_ Who was teaching this child his Japanese?

“Come on now, we’re all heading home together today,” she said, and now it was her son’s turn to light up.

“Arago-nii is coming home with us?” he asked, gripping the boy’s shoulders tighter. “Can he play with Yuzu and Karin with us? Can he stay for dinner?”

“I’d like for him to, but it’s up to Arago-kun now, isn’t it?”

“Oh gods,” Arago muttered. “If you’ll have me, I’d love to,” he gave in.

* * *

Arago, it seemed, was a boy beloved by all children, almost like some of the fairies he told stories of. The girls were barely three years old, but after seeing their mother and older brother being friendly with the stranger, they had immediately let him into their circle to play with.

“I didn’t know we had a secret twenty year old son,” her husband said, wrapping his arms around her as they watched the kids play together in the living room.

“You don’t like him? I think it’s cute.”

“I think it’s _too_ cute. My heart Masaki. _My heart._ I won’t survive this.”

“Oh hush, you,” she slapped the side of his head, then wiggled out of his arms to check on the curry.

She would always be thankful for her husband's implicit trust. This boy needed more warmth in his life, and by the gods she was going to give it to him. And if her kids ended up with a loyal older brother who would do anything to protect them? Then it was an unexpected and wholly unnecessary bonus.

* * *

“OK, OK, don't tell your mom and dad, but I'm gonna’ show you a magic trick,” Arago whispered, somehow under the impression that the adults couldn't hear him from the kitchen. Masaki peeked over her shoulder to check on them. Her kids were huddled closer, forming a little wall in front of him. He took the glove off his right hand and stretched it out, then pulled the sleeve up slightly.

“That's a big scar Arago-nii,” Yuzu said. “Does it hurt?”

Arago's expression faltered, almost as if it _did_ , like he wasn't expecting the kids to notice the scar when there was the temptation of magic in front of them.

“It's- It's really old, it almost never hurts anymore,” he said with a crooked smile. _Almost never,_ Masaki noted.

“How did you get it?” Karin asked.

Arago paused, like each second spent on the subject was costing him years, but he somehow couldn’t get himself to tell the kids to drop the matter.

“Who knows,” he laughed, left hand going up to pull on his ear. “I’m so old, and it happened so long ago, I can’t even remember.”

“That’s no fair Arago-nii.”

“Come on, wouldn’t you rather see some magic?” he countered.

The children eyed him like they weren’t really willing to let this go. But something shifted in Ichigo’s posture, almost like he understood Arago’s reluctance to keep talking about his scar. She had taught him well. Ichigo nudged his sisters and nodded, a silent instruction to leave it alone. Arago let out a relieved sigh and smiled.

“When I tell you to, put your hands on my arm, _lightly._ and for no more than a second. You can look at me or at each other. It’ll only last a second so you have to watch for it very carefully, OK?”

“Got it!” They chorused.

“Not any longer than a second, got it?”

“Yess,” they whined in unison.

“Alright.” He took a deep breath and seemed to center himself. “You can do it now.”

The instant her children's hands touched Arago, their faces lit up with wonder and their mouths dropped open. Arago smiled wide, then grimaced as the single second came to an end, pulling his arm back and sliding his glove back on with practiced ease.

“That was so cool!” chimed Karin.

“Can we see it again, Arago-nii?” Ichigo asked.

“Not for another while now, I need to rest between magic tricks, you know.”

“Aww.”

“C'mon you little biscuits, why don’t we go see if dinner is ready?” Arago ruffled Karin and Yuzu’s hair, locked eyes with Ichigo and smiled.

* * *

Masaki resolved to ask him about the magic trick anyway. Though he hadn’t meant for her to know about it at all, he _had_ gone ahead and performed something that appeared, for all intents and purposes, to not require any secrecy at all. And yet at her questioning, after dinner and after the children had said good night to Arago-nii and been tucked in, Arago had sucked in a stunned breath, and looked decidedly like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn't have been.

“I, uh, oh man…” he mumbled to himself, looking lost and avoiding her eyes for a moment. “I could just show you, I guess.”

Her eyes widened at the suggestion. “Did you not need to rest?”

“It’ll be easier to explain if you see it yourself,” he said, tugging his glove off and hitching up his sleeve again. “You can hold on until you have to let go.”

_Have to?_ She eyed the arm he was offering, where the scar her kids had been taken with was clearly visible. It was definitely old, but big enough to have not faded at all. It looked settled in the way old scars tended to, but something about its color was slightly off, maybe even slightly new. As soon as her hand touched his arm, the world seemed to light up. Arago himself was surrounded by a bright light, like a diamond sparkling in sunshine, refracting colors that were washed out in the brightness.

Her own hand was coated in bright magentas and golden oranges, with a few strands of black hugging her skin, being eaten away by the other colors. Like a sunset, she thought, warm and familiar. It felt like she was witnessing a part of herself she’d always known, but never truly seen. She stared, awestruck, until something like a static shock seemed to come from Arago’s hand. She did not tighten her grip, but neither did she let go, and the longer the contact, the more it felt like electricity running through her, burning her hand, which didn’t make any sense. She let go and eyed Arago’s arm, which looked the same as it had before, scar and all, perfectly unchanged. The skin of her own hand, however, was pink and sensitive.

As her eyes shifted back and forth once more, understanding dawned. He hadn’t needed the rest because the magic had cost him nothing but concentration. The time limit was for the people experiencing the magic.

“Most people wouldn’t believe me if I told them I had a, uh, well a power- but you have one too, right? Masaki-san?” he asked, looking just a touch hopeful. “The colors you saw, they’re called auras. I see them all the time, and I can sort of tell certain things by looking at them,” he explained. “So I can tell that you and Isshin-san are being held back by something, but you’re still strong.”

He paused, putting the glove back on and tugging down his sleeve. He shifted his weight and rubbed his right arm, as if the scar might have been aching.

“Ichigo and Karin and Yuzu all have some of the same powers that you guys have, though Ichigo’s are the strongest right now.” Something in his eyes changed, and he stood straighter. “Take care of them, Masaki-san. Leaving things like this alone- it doesn’t usually end well.”

“Things like this?” she asked.

“Powers. Leaving them unchecked, letting them grow without supervision. Sometimes things work out fine, but…” his eyes drifted past her, towards the staircase that led to the bedrooms upstairs. “Better safe than sorry.”

“I understand,” she acquiesced. “I didn’t want to drag them into this, I don’t think Isshin really wants to either, but I’ll give it some thought. We’ll be here to protect them if anything happens, and you will too, right?”

The tension keeping his back straight bled out at her answer.

“I won’t always be here, but I’ll do my best while I am.”

“You’re always welcome back,” she said softly, as he opened the door. “We’d love to have you for dinner again.”

“I’ll be sure to take you up on that,” he said, smile only a little bit lonely. “Have a good evening, Masaki-san.”

“You too, Arago-kun.”


End file.
